


The Disowned House of Black

by Oakwyrm



Series: My City Now [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bigotry & Prejudice, Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Disownment, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Sirius Black Lives, Snapshots, Squibs, Unplanned Pregnancy, minor Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22881265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakwyrm/pseuds/Oakwyrm
Summary: There were six of them. Six disowned members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Six people who decided if their family would not have them they would make one for themselves.
Relationships: Andromeda Black Tonks/Ted Tonks, Black Family & Black Family (Harry Potter), Bob Hitchens/Iola Black Hitchens, Cedrella Black Weasley/Septimus Weasley, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: My City Now [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644718
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	The Disowned House of Black

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sick so y'all have to deal with the results of my fever-fuelled hyperfocus.
> 
> Obviously canon had been taken out back and shot.

It all started one evening in late September of 1903 when Iola Hitchens heard an unexpected knock at her door. She exchanged a look with her husband over the coffee table. Neither of them was expecting anyone, especially not at this late hour.

She had no particular theories when she approached the door, but the sight she found was certainly not what she expected. The young man standing on her front step shifted nervously, an awkward air hanging about him.

She didn’t recognize him, not exactly, but she knew who he had to be without a doubt. The resemblance to her older brother was too great to be a coincidence. The grey eyes, the nose, the sharp jawline. Black family features without a doubt. At a guess, she’d put him in his early twenties. Too young to even have been born when she had been disowned.

“Er… hi.” He wrung his hands nervously. “Iola Hitchens?”

She nodded sharply. “And you are?”

“Phineas. Phineas Black. Your nephew.”

“I wasn’t aware I had one,” she said, crossing her arms and eyeing him cautiously. “What are you doing here? My brother was pretty clear he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.”

“Yeah, well, he wants nothing to do with me, either,” Phineas said hotly, a look of familiar hurt and resentment flashing across his face. Iola’s arms dropped, her whole posture relaxing in an instant.

“Oh you poor boy…” she said softly, reaching and taking his hands in hers. “Come in, we can talk in the living room.”

Bob looked somewhat shocked when she returned with a stranger trailing awkwardly after her. His eyes flicked back and forth over their faces, snagging on similarities. He said nothing, but there was a suspicious glint in his eyes as he set his paper aside. Iola could not help her smile. He had never been a man of many words, his intelligence was of a quiet sort. It was a great part of why she loved him. Why she’d married him.

“Phineas, this is my husband Robert. Bob, my nephew Phineas. He’s going to be staying with us for a while.”

Phineas jerked in surprise, the hand he’d been moving to shake Bob’s stilling as he turned to stare at her. She patted his shoulder patiently.

“Just until you get your bearings, dear,” she said. “He can take the guest bedroom.”

Bob nodded his assent. “Seems sensible enough to me. Anyone that family ‘o yours sees fit to kick out is good in my books.”

“I don’t want to impose…” Phineas picked at his sleeves. Iola laughed.

“Oh do calm down, won’t you? You’re not imposing in the slightest, you’re family.”

That, it seemed, was that. Phineas found himself seated and a cup of tea shoved into his hands before he could blink.

“Don’t try and argue, it’s a futile effort.” Bob grinned over his paper. Phineas chuckled and settled more comfortably on the couch, a tension in his chest finally unwinding and finding some peace.

* * *

Things settled into a routine after that. Phineas found a home for himself and began showing up for family dinners every Saturday. He got to know his aunt and learned she and Bob had never had any children. Bob hadn’t particularly cared, and Iola had always dreaded her presumed role as mother and provider of an heir that came with the station of her birth.

Phineas liked them, and he found himself quite content with his life and the years moved on. Occasionally Iola would attempt to point him in the direction of some nice young woman, concerned he would find himself lonely, but Phineas always shook his head and declined. Her concern was appreciated, but unwarranted.

It was an unpleasant summer evening in 1928 when the knock came. There was a pressure in the air that told of a storm to come. Phineas dragged himself out of bed with a groan. He felt far too heavy and tired but still, he went to the door and pulled it open.

At first, he could only stare, a numb horror sinking into his bones at the sight before him. There, on his doorstep, stood a young boy, no older than eleven. His dark brown hair was tangled, his large, clear grey eyes filling with tears and to Phineas, it felt like being shot back in time. All of a sudden he was seventeen again and little nine-year-old Cygnus was trailing after him, asking with breathless excitement about what he would do now that he was out of Hogwarts.

“U-uncle Phineas?” the young boy asked, his voice timid and shaking. He was holding out a letter, clutched in shaking hands.

“Yes, yes I imagine I am. Come in.” Phineas stood back and took it as the boy stepped into his home, looking about with quick, cautious eyes. “Sit anywhere you like,” Phineas said as he unfolded the letter and began to read.

> _Dear Phineas Black_
> 
> _I am sending you this letter along with the boy as an explanation. As timid and useless a thing as he is I don’t imagine he will be able to say a proper word to explain himself._
> 
> _The boy who handed you this letter is Marius Black. The unfortunate truth of the matter is that he is my third child, though I disavow him entirely. Neither I nor his father will be known as the parents to such a creature._
> 
> _It is at the last now undeniable. He is a Squib. As you well know, having once been part of this family, this will not stand. Yet I will not pretend that I can just turn him out on the street. I have been his mother for eleven years and so, now, I send him to you in hopes that you may take him in._
> 
> _Regards,_
> 
> _Violetta Black_

Phineas looked from the letter to the boy and back again. A shiver of disgust ran down his spine at the words as he read then again, though he could not say he was surprised. With a sigh, he set the letter down on the nearby hallway dresser.

“Marius?”

The boy flinched but looked up from where he was seated, stiff as a board, on the couch. Phineas crouched down beside him. He wanted to hug him, assure him he was safe. Promise with every breath he had that he would never be alone and scared and abandoned again.

Instead, he said; “I have two rooms that could be made into bedrooms with ease, would you like to pick which should be yours?”

Marius lit up, slowly and cautiously, but the smile on his face was real as was the small nod that he gave. Phineas smiled back and took his hand, leading him to the second floor. He picked the larger room, with the window facing the garden for which Phineas was secretly grateful. It would have been easy to relocate his study, but he did prefer not to.

It took a couple of spells and the transfiguring of the living-room couch but soon enough Marius was settling in for the night, using one of Phineas’ old shirts as a nightgown. Only once he was sure that Marius was asleep did he carefully and silently leave the room to go collapse into his own bed.

Tomorrow he would contact Iola, and she would screech in incandescent rage for a moment before she swept through his house to make sure he had everything he needed. Then he would contact the families of other Squibs to ask about homeschooling, and he would teach Marius what he could.

Marius would grow. His smile would return and he would learn all he could of magic and a world that did not want him. He would fall in love and experience heartbreak and turn to Phineas with questions the elder Black found himself entirely unequipped to answer.

War would shake the muggle world in parallel with the rise of Gellert Grindelwald and Marius would go despite Phineas begging him to stay. Things were uncertain enough within the wizarding world. Marius would hear nothing of it, and he would go. He would return, quiet and shaking as he had not since that first night, but he would return and Phineas would sob as he held the closest thing to a son he had in the world close to his chest.

But for that night, all was calm, and Phineas slept.

* * *

Soon after the war ended the disowned members of House Black got another addition. She showed up, arm in arm with her husband on Iola’s doorstep during family dinner one evening.

It was Marius who opened the door only to freeze at the sight that greeted him. He took her in, her curly dark hair, her piercing grey eyes. She was still taller than him but a far cry from the thirteen-year-old girl she was when he last saw her, and just as frozen in place as he was.

His eyes snapped to the man next to her, with his red hair and his freckles and the cheap quality of his robes and the matching rings on their fingers and he breathed again.

“Uncle Arcturus didn’t take kindly to this one, I assume?” he said, putting on a jovial tone. Cedrella breathed again, a weak laugh falling from her lips.

“He did not,” she said.

They fell into silence for another beat before Cedrella surged forwards and pulled Marius into a tight hug. He floundered for a second, unsure of what to do before he wrapped his arms around her in turns.

“Thank Merlin you’re alright,” she whispered into his shoulder. “I could never get a straight answer out of my parents as to what happened to you. For a while, I was certain-”

She pressed her face into his hair and blinked tears out of her eyes. Her husband stepped up next to her, placing a gentle comforting hand on her back. She drew a deep breath and pulled away from Marius, her face once again drawn into an expression of calm collectedness, betrayed only by the redness of her eyes.

“Right. Marius, this is my husband Septimus Weasley. Septimus, my cousin Marius Black.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Septimus, extending his hand. Marius smiled and took it.

“Likewise. We’re having dinner at the moment, but I don’t think great-aunt Iola will complain over the added company.”

As if stirred by his words his great-aunt’s voice rang from the dining room; “Who’s at the door?”

“Our oh so gracious family has sent us another lost soul they can no longer stand!” Marius said. He heard the distinct sound of Phineas’ laughter and the scraping of a chair before his uncle came into the hallway.

“What is it this time? Refused to torture the cat?” he asked.

Cedrella laughed. “Married a Weasley, actually,” she said merrily, taking her husband’s arm again. Phineas nodded.

“That’d do it,” he said. “Phineas Black.” He held out his hand and she shook it.

“Cedrella Weasley.”

“Well do come on in, you two,” Iola said, drawing attention to where she was standing by the door to the dining room. “You’re in luck, I made far too much food just for the four of us.”

* * *

Bilius Weasley was born early the very next year. His mother gazed at him with tired, harrowed eyes. It was all Cedrella could do to keep her emotions in check, overwhelmed by love and grief in equal measure. She had only known Bob Hitchens for a year, but she had liked him and the grief at his passing was still fresh as she held her first son.

Septimus was at her side, Marius waiting in the hallway. Phineas and Iola had insisted they could wait a bit to greet this new little life, let him get settled into living before he was swamped by family.

Septimus’ sister Tessie was much less patient, bursting into the room to coo over her little nephew as soon as she was given the all-clear. Cedrella smiled as Tessie rocked Bilius and cooed ridiculous little nothings at his chubby, confused face.

“He’s gonna grow up to look just like his dad, I can already tell,” Tessie declared firmly.

She was right, that much was already apparent two years later when Bilius stood fidgeting by his mother’s bedside, waiting to go greet his new baby brother.

“Come on,” Septimus said gently, reaching out to help his son clamber up into the bed. “His name is Riordan.”

“Rio- Reer…” Bilius frowned, his clumsy toddler’s words not quite managing to get around the name. “Dan!” He declared, crossing his arms with a pout. Septimus laughed and pressed a kiss to his head.

“What do you think, love?” he asked, turning his eyes to Cedrella, who was watching them with a fond smile.

“Dan will do nicely,” she said, looking back down to the child in her arms who was sleeping soundly.

Two years later Arthur Weasley was born in the middle of a snowstorm. Marius hadn’t been able to make it, nor had Tessie or any of their other relations. It was just Cedrella and Septimus and their two older boys.

“I think…” Cedrella said, staring down at the boy in her arms with a fond smile on her lips. “Three is a fine number, don’t you dear?”

Septimus smiled and pressed a kiss to her sweat-damp temple. “Three is wonderful.”

* * *

“Uncle Marius!”

It was 1965 and the urgent call of his name in the familiar voice of one Arthur Weasley made Marius jump and tear his paper with his fountain pen. He muttered a curse as Arthur came barrelling into his study, breathing heavily.

“Alright, where’s the fire?” Marius asked, setting his papers to order and spending only a moment mourning the work he would have to start over.

“Sorry,” Arthur said through gasping breaths. “But you’re the best person I know at languages. You _have_ to teach me Scots Gaelic.”

Marius blinked. “Not that I’m ever one to discourage the pursuit of knowledge but what brought this on?”

Arthur flushed bright red and muttered something under his breath. Marius raised an eyebrow.

“Come again?”

“I said Molly Prewett,” Arthur grumbled, kicking his foot against the carpet.

Marius grinned. “Oh a _girl_ , is it?”

“Shut up,” Arthus sat down in one of the chairs in front of Marius’ desk. “It’s just… it sounds so pretty when she speaks it but she only really does when she’s angry and yelling. Usually at Black… er, Bellatrix and I thought maybe… If I learned it I could hear her speak it more?”

Marius had to carefully school his expression to keep himself from melting on the spot. Instead, he settled for a smile as he stood and went to place his hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Of course I’ll teach you,” he said. “Besides, your family has roots in Scotland. I believe your great-grandmother still spoke the language, but you’ll have to ask your father.”

Arthur lit up. “Really?”

“Yes really. Now if you come back on Wednesday at five I’ll have a solid start for you, alright?”

Arthur nodded and shot up out of his seat. “Thank you, uncle Marius!” He grinned and darted out of the office, leaving Marius to his quiet thoughts. He had had a conversation with Cedrella, long ago. She had noted with some sorrow that the state of her home had left her unable to stomach the idea of speaking French with her children and that thus they would grow up speaking only one language.

Well, if he could help at least one of them learn another he would think his time well spent.

* * *

Autumn of 1972 brought with it another surprise for Cedrella Weasley. A sharp knock at her door late one evening. The woman who stood on the other side of the door was not someone she recognized, but she could hazard a guess. Her hair was a bit lighter than the average, and her eyes a dark brown, but there were Black-family traits in that face.

“Cedrella Weasley?” she asked. Cedrella nodded. “Andromeda Black. Arthur told me to come here.”

Cedrella nodded and stepped back to invite the girl inside. She was so young, barely an adult, and her eyes shone with a furious fire tinged with an unavoidable hurt that struck Cedrella to the core with how familiar it was.

“So,” she said as she guided the girl to sit. “What was it?”

“A lot, probably,” Andromeda said, blowing a lock of hair out of her face. It changed fluidly from brown to mint green as she did so. “I don’t hold with their pureblood rhetoric, I’m friends with blood-traitors and muggleborns and I get along with your children…”

She laughed as she ran a hand through her hair, turning it completely to the same mint green. “You know what’s the worst of it? The minute I make it clear to them they can’t just marry me off to make me someone else’s problem _that’s_ when they decide they’ve had enough.”

Cedrella sighed. “It is all the use daughters have to them,” she said. “You’ll find a plethora of reasons for disownment among the men in our little group but the women? It always comes down to marriage in the end.”

Andromeda nodded, something bitter flashing in her eyes.

“I’m not even planning on marrying him just yet,” she muttered, her hand rising to her stomach almost without thought. Cedrella’s eyes snapped to the movement, and the noticeable if small bump beneath her hand.

“Not planned, I take it?” she asked, taking care to make her voice gentle. Andromeda shook her head.

“No. But Ted and I already talked, before either of us knew. We always wanted children just… didn’t expect one so soon.” She bit her lip and for the first time, Cedrella realised that behind her anger there was fear. A fear Cedrella knew well, and she had been thirty-one when she first felt it. The uncertainty of not knowing how you were going to provide for your child.

“We don’t have much,” she said as she leaned forward. “But you and this Ted of yours are welcome to stay with us until you find your feet.”

Andromeda smiled, but it was shaky. “Arthur said you’d say that.”

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks came into the world screaming with hair the shade of a traffic cone. Andromeda laughed an exhausted laugh and Ted could not stop smiling. Cedrella privately thought that they had saddled the poor girl with quite the unfortunate name, but she kept her opinion behind her teeth.

Her sons were not quite so kind about it.

“Really Andy? ‘Nymphadora’? Well, don’t blame me if the poor kid hates you,” said Dan as he leaned over to peak at this new addition to the family.

“Oh hush up, you,” Molly scolded her brother-in-law, her second child, only months old, held safely in her arms while Bill sat comfortably on his father’s shoulders. “She’s beautiful.”

“Well that was hardly a question, look at her parents,” said Andromeda with a grin. “When will great-aunt Iola be up for a visit from us, do you think?” she asked, turning her eyes to where Phineas was dozing in the corner.

He startled slightly, blinking tired eyes open. Marius settled a hand on his shoulder. His health had been failing recently, and they all worried for him, but Marius was the one who had moved back into his home to care for him.

“Saturday. As always. That woman is determined to keep Saturday dinners going until the day she dies,” he said.

Andromeda nodded, satisfied. “Saturday it is, then.”

* * *

> _Dear Andromeda_
> 
> _I’m alright. The Potters have taken me in. Don’t worry._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Sirius_

Andromeda set the letter down on the table in front of her. She took a steadying breath and scooped her three-year-old daughter into her lap, pressing a kiss into Nymphadora’s bright blue hair. Despite his words, she worried. She had always worried about him.

Nymphadora began to squirm in her lap and she let her go, turning her attention to a blank sheet of paper.

> _Dear Sirius_
> 
> _I’m very happy to hear you have a safe home to go to. The Potters are good people._
> 
> _Still, now that you’ve officially joined our ranks I feel it is my solemn duty to invite you to the weekly Saturday dinners of the Small and Merry Disowned House of Black at great-aunt Iola’s place._
> 
> _Dinner starts at six, but people usually start showing up around five. You may bring a plus one._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Andromeda Tonks_

* * *

“Sirius, stop fretting.” Remus’ voice was gentle, as were his hands as he smoothed them over Sirius’ jacket collar. “Your cousin wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t welcome.”

Sirius did not stop fretting. His hair, had it been shorter, would likely have been in a state to rival James’ with how frequently he was running his hands through it. It was one of the many small habits they shared. No one in their group was quite sure if James had had it first or Sirius.

“I’m serious,” Remus said.

“No you’re Remus,” Sirius replied automatically, years of the easy jokes surrounding his name making it a very nearly ingrained response. Then he stopped short and turned to squint suspiciously at him. “Did you do that on purpose?”

Remus shrugged, but they both knew he had. Being friends with Sirius meant learning to edit your language. Remus had had the hang of it since their second year. Sirius couldn’t find it within himself to be too annoyed. The familiarity of the interaction had brought a soothing calm to his chest that he desperately needed. Which had no doubt been Remus’ plan all along.

“Right, let’s get going then, shall we?” Remus asked. “Floo or apparition?”

“More polite to apparate at least the first time, right?” Sirius asked, hesitation bleeding back into his voice.

“Sirius Black, polite.” Remus laughed. “Will wonders never cease?”

Sirius snorted and shoved his shoulder gently. “Sod off, Moony.”

“You’ll not be rid of me that easily.” Remus pulled him in to place a quick kiss on his temple. “Now really let’s go or we actually will be late.”

They apparated to a small, dirt path leading to a small, cosy cottage. It was set a little off from the main road, surrounded by a small bit of forest. Sirius drew a deep breath and marched towards the door, Remus right behind him. He was certain the nervous beat of his heart was audible for miles.

Before he could even raise his hand to knock the door had been pulled open and there stood Andromeda, hair light blue and pulled into a neat braid. She smiled brilliantly and pulled him into a near bone-crushing hug.

“Sirius! You came!” She stepped back to give him a quick once-over but found nothing objectionable so her eyes turned to Remus.

“Right, yes.” Sirius stepped back. “Andy, this is Remus Lupin. Remus, my cousin Andromeda.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Remus said. Andromeda nodded.

“Likewise, you boys come in so we can get all introductions over with and dinner started.”

They were lead through the cottage to the backyard where a table had been set up on a hand-made wooden porch. Merry voices and laughter greeted them only to quiet when Andromeda called for attention.

“Our newest addition has decided to grace us with his presence,” she said, putting on a voice, not unlike a commentator at a Quidditch game. “Some of you have no doubt already heard of him, most likely through the complaining of his teachers. My cousin, Sirius Black.”

Sirius laughed and took a bow.

After that he and Remus were in short order introduced to all present company. Iola, old and withered in her chair. Phineas, whose hands shook while he smiled and welcomed them. Marius, who smiled at Sirius’ muggle wardrobe and made his grand-nephew promise to introduce him to some of the more modern media of the muggle world soon. Cedrella, who nodded approvingly and went back to her book. Septimus who shook their hands and welcomed them. Ted, who remembered them from Hogwarts and teased them, and little Nymphadora who stared at them with big eyes and oohed over Sirius’ leather jacket.

They were introduced to Bilius and Dan, who raised their drinks before going back to discussing some obscure branch of magical theory. Even just the snippets Sirius got from standing in their general vicinity made his head spin.

Arthur tacked himself onto Sirius’ promise to Marius and Molly hugged him as tight as her pregnant belly would allow. Bill Weasley, five years old going on six, stared at Sirius for a long time, half-hidden behind his mother’s robes.

“This is my eldest, Bill,” said Molly as she gently pushed him forwards. “He’s not usually so shy…”

Bill blinked at Sirius for a moment before; “I like your hair!” He clapped his hands over his mouth and blushed. Sirius laughed and crouched down, reaching out to ruffle Bill’s hair.

“You’ve got excellent taste, it’s very good hair,” he said with a grin. Bill lowered his hands and gave him a blinding smile before running off to continue the puzzle he had been busy with when Sirius and Remus arrived. Molly smiled fondly after him and pushed her second child forwards.

“And this-”

“I’m Charlie and I’m a boy!” the child said before she could finish, his hands twisted into his light green, butterfly patterned robes, a look of pure determination on his young face. Molly closed her eyes briefly, looking to gather her patience.

“I’m sorry, she’s been going through a phase lately-”

Beside her, Charlie wilted a little. Sirius opened his mouth, but before he could even begin to think of what to say Remus was speaking.

“Oh don’t apologise,” he said in a light tone. “He’s not hurting anyone. Lots of children go through times of exploration like this.”

Molly blinked. “Really?”

Remus nodded. “I believe there have been some muggle studies on it. He may grow out of it or he may not but from everything I’ve read it’s completely normal and healthy.”

The relief on Molly’s face settled a worry that had begun to tug at Sirius’ heart.

“Sirius dear you don’t mind if I borrow your friend for a bit do you?” she asked, looking to him. He shook his head and smiled.

“Not at all.” He gently squeezed Remus’ hand as Molly pulled him away to a corner, Charlie trailing after them with a hesitant but hopeful smile on his face. The image sent a swell of soft warmth through his chest.

* * *

The next year Iola Hitchens died. Sirius attended her funeral and mourned his chance to know her better. She went into the earth beside her husband in a muggle cemetery and the children of her muggle friends remarked on her truly astonishing lifespan.

Sirius mourned his great-aunt, and he mourned his uncle.

He cornered Andromeda at the post-funeral reception and pulled her aside. The worried crease of her brow told him she was reading more than just sorrow at the expected loss of an old relative in his face.

“Uncle Alphard’s dead,” he said quietly. Her mouth fell open, shock overtaking her features for a moment. He knew she had liked their uncle just as much as he had. Alphard had always been a stand-out among their many terrible relations.

“I- How do you know?” she asked quietly.

“Got a visit from the executor of his will. He’s left me… well, more gold than I’m worth to be quite honest.”

Andromeda frowned. “Do we know how it happened?”

Sirius shook his head. It was troubling. The last time he’d seen uncle Alphard the man had been the pinnacle of health. He wasn’t _old_. Not even fifty, there was no reason he should just drop dead like that.

“You don’t think?” Andromeda’s eyes flickered cautiously around them. Sirius nodded.

“I do. Alphard was never like the rest of them and things are getting worse by the day.”

Andromeda nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”

“He was your uncle, too.” Sirius shrugged.

* * *

It was 1979 when Phineas Black died. Despite his long illness, it was not that which finally succeeded and dragged him to his grave. A Death Eater got there first. Phineas Black died fighting for everything he believed in, even as his health failed.

Sirius sat beside his great-uncle as Marius wept over the loss of the man who was more a father to him than Cygnus Black II had ever been.

* * *

“I can’t believe it,” Marius said. His eyes were staring at the headline. His hand was on the table, but it all felt vague. Like he was viewing it through a couple of layers of distortion. Distant. “He wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” said Cedrella grimly.

“Come on this is _Sirius_ ,” Andromeda said, her voice tinged with desperation. “There’s no way- He wouldn’t-” She pressed her hands to her mouth, looking vaguely like she wanted to be sick.

“He introduced me to Queen,” Marius said, his voice hollow and brittle. “He loved everything muggle I don’t understand…” His skin was crawling. For the first time since he was eleven years old, exiled from the only home he had ever known, alone and scared as he knocked on a stranger’s door with the desperate hope he might be taken pity on, he felt dirty. Felt the way magic refused his call like a poison under his skin.

Sirius had laughed at his stories. Had sat in his office and listened as he told him of his life. Indulged an old man’s nostalgia. It felt impossible to think that all the while he had been looking down his nose at him. Believing the things their cursed family planted in the heads of their children.

And yet…

He looked down at the headline again and abruptly stood to leave. Vaguely he was aware of Cedrella and Andromeda calling after him but he was already out the door.

* * *

Bilius died. He was forty-one years old. Cedrella did not weep at his funeral and while some in attendance scorned her for it her children understood. It was only ever Septimus to whom she bared her soul. He was the one who’d held her as she cried herself hoarse over the loss of their son.

To the outside world, she put on the brave face. She comforted her grandchildren, she held her remaining sons as they cried. She talked for endless hours with her daughter-in-law. She picked herself up and she moved on and she let Septimus be the only one who saw her at her most vulnerable.

Her fingers ran over the frame of a photograph on her mantle. The last photo all of them had taken together. Great-aunt Iola, old and wizened in her chair, uncle Phineas beside her, his arm around her shoulders. Marius next to him, and herself with her arm around his shoulders. In front of them sat Andromeda. Alone.

She set the picture back and did not think about who it was who had walked out of his place in the photograph.

* * *

Sirius Black escaped. He escaped and he did not think of his distant relatives. He thought of his ward, and Peter Pettigrew and his soul roiled with a burning, destructive fury.

Sirius Black escaped and he sank his teeth into the leg of a boy he had once held as a newborn infant. He escaped and he begged the boy he should have raised, so similar to James it hurt to look at him, to understand. To trust him.

He escaped and Remus Lupin came to him and sinking into his arms was like coming home.

He escaped, and he did not. Pettigrew ran, the coward rat that he was, and Sirius fled, and for the first time since he had begun the long swim from Azkaban, he thought of his relatives.

Andromeda sought him out first. Molly had gone directly to her after discovering the truth of the situation. He had expected her to, but that did not make the inevitable reunion any easier.

She handled him as one would a glass sculpture. Hesitantly, carefully, as if he might break at the slightest touch. She may have been right.

“I am so, so sorry,” she said, her hands cradling his with the kind of feather-light touch one handled a baby bird.

“Hardly your fault, is it?” he said and his hand tightened around hers before he pulled her into a tight hug. She sat there frozen for a moment before she returned it. He very nearly cried when she did. When he pulled back there was a suspicious shine to his eyes and his voice was thick.

“How are the others?” he asked.

“Nymphadora’s an Auror now. Cedrella’s keeping busy, as usual. Dan is in the arctic somewhere researching how extreme cold affects magic. Arthur’s still Arthur. Bill’s become a curse-breaker, and Charlie’s in Romania studying dragons. Percy’s working for the Ministry, the rest of Molly and Arthur’s kids are all at Hogwarts. I believe you’ve met some of them already.”

Sirius laughed a trifle hysterically. “You could say that. Ron’s a good kid.”

Andromeda nodded, but there was hesitation in her face. “Bilius is dead. Died in 1987. Saw the Grim and fretted himself into an early grave. And… Merlin, Sirius I’m so sorry.”

Sirius closed his eyes. He was well aware of which name was conspicuously missing from her report. “What happened to him?”

“A heart attack. Two years go. He was gone by the time we found him, there was nothing we could do.”

Two years. Just after Sirius had gotten out of Azkaban. He cursed and this time he could not stop his tears.

“He went into his grave believing me to be a traitor, then,” he said quietly. He did not say all else that was running through his mind. He did not say ‘thinking that I despised him. Looked down on him. Thought of him as _lesser_ ’. Andromeda’s face crumpled and she pulled him into another hug and held him as he wept.

* * *

Family filtered in one by one after that. Ron showed up one day sputtering incoherently about how Sirius had shown back up in one of the photographs on his grandmother’s fireplace. Arthur and Dan showed up with Cedrella for afternoon tea soon after. It was awkward at first but they settled into somewhat familiar conversation under Cedrella’s guidance. She always had been so very practical about everything.

Bill popped in once when he had some time between work, gave Sirius a once-over and said; “I still like your hair.”

Sirius laughed like he hadn’t in years.

Dora settled in beside him at an Order meeting and punched his shoulder gently and that was all they needed. She had been eight the last time he saw her. It was odd to see her now, an adult with a job and responsibilities.

Charlie sent him a letter apologising for not being able to pull himself from his work long enough to come back to England and asking him to “thank Lupin for me. You know why.”

Sirius smiled and handed the letter to Remus, who tried to mutter something about how anyone would have done the same but began to pen a reply regardless.

Cedrella fell to a Death Eater’s curse the day her youngest grandson turned sixteen. He mourned her, and Remus held his hand as they sat in empty Grimmauld Place, unable to attend the funeral. Again he cursed Pettigrew and the influence the rat still held over his life.

Life moved on. His cousin tried to kill him, and she failed. He held Harry tight to his chest and tried not to let his terror show. The future and past both haunted him. He still had nightmares, and he still jumped at shadows. The cold still sent him into a blind panic, the walls of Azkaban closing around him again. He could not sleep in full darkness, and he flinched at coughs and rattling breath, but he was not alone.

He could heal. He could live. The warmth of Remus’ sleeping form beside him only served to press that point home further. He could heal. He was not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> The text at one point calls Harry Sirius' "ward" because I've gone ahead and taken a big eraser to the idea that all wizards are Christian so Sirius is not Harry's godfather but rather his guardian.


End file.
